A Second Impression
by PrimAndProperCaye
Summary: It felt as if the breath had been stolen from my lungs. I was captivated and I couldn't put a finger on exactly what it was about her that had me so entirely entranced. Maybe it was her natural grace, or deep-thinking, or even her passionate, stormy eyes.


Hello Everyone! This here is the prologue to a story based off of Luna, she will be slightly different from how she is depicted in the books. I really love her and hope this story explores other aspects of her besides only ever talking about her creatures from the Quibbler. Here's to it! Enjoy :) DracoXLuna.

Disclaimer: I most definately do not own Harry Potter, nor any of its unique characters, locations, nor any of J.K. Rowling's plot.

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><p>The last I remember seeing all my old acquaintances from school was over a year and a half ago. As soon as I could, I got away from the war, the pain. I wasn't running from it, as some may have guessed, but rather I was embracing it. I took it as a new liberty; I took it and I ran to a dream I never had the courage to chase after.<p>

**_I traveled. _**

Ever since I was 13, I had a desire to experience the world, delve into the cultures, meet new people, and speak the languages that graced the tongues of creation. I got a second chance at life. Before, I was scorned by the world and too different from society to be accepted. I still was not ashamed. Things changed when I graduated and was forced to ask myself,_ "Now what?"_

I fled to the first place that caught my mind: the coast of France. Packed with me, I had a fair amount of money and some necessities. Everything else I left behind for my eventual return back home, or I donated for those that had lost their homes or family. Some things were too painful for me to be able to look back on everyday; others I saw as unneeded and just another burden holding me down. At the time being, Ginny and Hermione are living in my house because they had lost anywhere they might've once called home. With so many people in need of shelter, why would I allow my home to stay unoccupied? I couldn't bear that guilt.

I told no one that I wanted to make this trip; though, I am sure Ginny noticed something was going on when I began being much more verbal about how appreciative I was of all my dearest friends. What I left in my place was a letter; it had vaguely addressed my reason for leaving. I wanted time to collect myself, follow my dreams, change the world, and help those coming out of a hard time in the war.

When I first had taken in my surroundings on the coast, I felt a rush of familiarity. It was one of the places my mother used to take me when I was a young girl; we would sit together and picnic on the cool sand, while observing the ever-consistent tide. I still stand can see the gleam of awe that would subtly radiate from her stormy, gray eyes as she watched the intricate, yet mighty, waves. Those eyes that changed with every passing emotion were a wonder to me as a child; now, I see them reflected in the mirror daily. I spent my first day reflecting upon thoughts on that sector of the beach I have always loved so dearly. I chose that very spot to stay because of the way the ocean inspires me; the way the past inspires me.

Waking up that second day brought an odd feeling of liberation and contentment. I decided to camp for a while on the empty shore and remember. To remember those I lost and honor them, to properly take a time of mourning after those tragic events, and to contemplate my next move. I eventually moved all throughout France and Ireland, Britain and Bulgaria, Greece and Italy, helping our world recover and find peace again. I made friends in all sorts of small communities and large cities, becoming an activist of sorts. Of course, somewhere through all of that madness, I managed to keep up the Quibbler and even anonymously donate to Hermione's latest house elf causes. Might I tell you that my article on Wrackspurts and Cornish Pixie relations is going quite marvelously!

Now, I know that it is all right to be a bit different from those all around me. Why conform? People change: for the better and for the worse. I believe that I have been changed for the better. While I may never forget the events that molded me into the person I am today, I choose to forgive those that have hurt me.

_Today, I am coming back home._

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><p>Alright, it appears this first chapter has already come to an end! Please feel free to share your thoughts or opinions on how the story is going with me in the reviews! I would greatly appreciate any feedback given and any thoughts on the continuation.<p>

_~PrimAndProperCaye_


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